


The Night Still Whispers the Sins of Old

by Toomanytears



Series: Tainted Saints And Velvet Vices [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, One Direction (Band)
Genre: (you know me), Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Auror Louis Tomlinson, Auror Partners, Break Up, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Meddling, Mission Fic, Plot, Post-Break Up, Rekindling romance, Slow Burn, This is borne from love and confusion, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:48:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28485636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toomanytears/pseuds/Toomanytears
Summary: Two and a half years have passed since the fateful day when Louis and Harry were crowned Triwizard champions. Confronted with misunderstandings, wounded pride and heartache, Louis stumbled away from the possibility of a future relationship with Harry. Instead, he buried himself into relentless work as a junior Auror and refused to let himself be vulnerable with another person. Circumstances change that force Louis to confront his feelings - and Harry. Stolen glances, picnics at sunrise, thrilling adventures, original spellwork, midnight feasts, soft lips and cautious second chances culminate in an unforgettable mission - but will it be enough to mend their relationship?
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Series: Tainted Saints And Velvet Vices [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086506
Comments: 30
Kudos: 114





	1. Sharing Half A Heart (Was Never Enough For You)

**Author's Note:**

> It has been far too long, but I am utterly delighted to share the first chapter of the sequel to Tainted Saints and Velvet Vices with you all. Last year was wretched and harrowing; it was filled with loss, sorrow and reflection. As a young, privileged and introverted person, I was comparably fine. I can only imagine the pain and anxiety felt by others. But it was still difficult, and I want to thank every single person who read TSAVV, every person who commented and left kudos – I truly appreciate your kindness and generosity. I hope that this year is a more compassionate one, with less division and more hope. I wish all of you a better 2021. I hope you are patient with yourselves, that you extend loving gratitude to others and that you find meaning in the beauty around you, even in difficult circumstances. Put your phone down for a second, wrap your arms around yourself, burrow your chin into your chest and embrace yourself. It is the least we can do for ourselves.  
> Take care, and enjoy this sequel – Bea x

The morning after the final task dawned bright, with hues of gentle purple blending and tumbling into the distant clouds on the horizon. Even as the prospect of summer exams loomed, the Hogwarts grounds hummed with residual excitement and spontaneous outbursts of cheering and chanting, usually led by Niall and his enthusiastic Hufflepuff friends.

In the uppermost dormitory of the Right Tower, on a bed draped in emerald green sheets and an assortment of embroidered pillows, Harry Styles – notorious Slytherin and now Hogwarts Triwizard champion – was snoring very loudly indeed. Louis was almost tempted to crawl into the bed with him, if only to scare him awake.

But instead, Louis took a moment to himself to let the enormity of the previous day’s events wash over him. They had won the tournament, despite all odds. He had confronted Harry’s wretched father. And in front of the whole school, Harry had led him straight upstairs to their dormitory, leaving very little to the imagination of the gossiping students of Hogwarts (not to mention to parents and spectators in attendance).

On the desk beside Harry’s bed, his N.E.W.T revision book for Transfiguration was propped. Along the margins, various key words and annotations were scribbled, the black ink smudged in places. Beside the book was a letter addressed to Harry in elegant cursive with the Styles family crest in the corner. Louis frowned at the letter but decided not to dwell – Harry would tell him if there was anything important or troubling in the letter.

Louis wrote a short note, telling Harry that he had gone down to the Great Hall for breakfast, and positioned it on the stack of books there. After slinging his satchel over his chest, Louis shut the door silently behind himself. The corridors were alive with a strange balance of jubilation after the tournament and anxiety as the reality of exams settled in. Louis was nervous, naturally; exam season left him with a mild headache and a thundering heartbeat. But he knew that after winning the tournament, he had secured a place on the Auror training programme at the Ministry of Magic. All he would have to achieve is reasonably high pass grades in his exams. He was confident, at the very least, that he would do so in Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Louis reached the double doors leading to the Great Hall and lingered for the moment. Carefully, in a rather futile attempt to draw as little attention as possible, Louis opened the door. It felt like the entire student population whipped their heads around in union. In a great moment of upheaval, the Great Hall exploded with applause. As he made his way down the centre aisle, a grin plastered on his face, students all around him cheered. A couple of Ravenclaws grasped his hand and shook it fervently; others clambered onto their benches and stomped their feet. At the staff table, Louis spotted Professor McGonagall suppressing a smile, clapping curtly. Louis grinned sheepishly, his cheeks burning brighter than his Gryffindor tie.

“Louis!”

He turned on his heel and spotted Liam and Zayn sitting together.

“Thank Merlin, Liam,” Louis sighed, sitting opposite them.

Liam’s proud smile quickly faded and was replaced by a look of concern. “Louis, your face…”

“I know,” Louis said quickly, spooning steaming porridge into his bowl. He added gooseberries and a sprinkle of sugar. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Looking in the mirror that morning before his shower, Louis almost couldn’t recognise himself. He had scrapes and blooming bruises – only to be expected after the final task – but the left side of his face, along his jaw and mid-way down his neck was an unsightly shade of green, with flecks of yellow. (He also had a lovebite on his neck – courtesy of Harry – but he could easily pretend that it was a wound from the tournament.)

“What was that from?”

“It was from a curse that backfired,” Louis muttered. “It was much worse straight after the task but Madam Pomfrey was able to heal it almost completely last night when it was hurting me too much to sleep.”

“Did she say how long it would last?” Zayn asked gently.

“A couple of weeks, although she said it would fade gradually.”

“That’s not as terrible as I would assume from a backfired curse, then,” Liam said, visibly relieved. “And it’s not like you’re going to be going on any first dates anytime soon.”

Louis cast his gaze towards his breakfast, a blush reaching his cheeks at the thought. “Well,” he began, “Harry and me officially never had a first date.”

“But he surely won’t mind that, Louis, so long as he knows it doesn’t pain you,” Zayn assured him.

“Speak of the devil,” Liam said as another wave of clapping and cheering soared through the Great Hall.

Louis didn’t bother hiding his eagerness to catch Harry’s eye across the sea of invigorated students. He spotted Harry saunter down the centre aisle, smiling languidly, an untamed spark in his green eyes. The Slytherins were uncontrollable, banging cutlery on the table and chanting so loudly that the floors reverberated and even the candles suspended above them quivered. Louis watched Harry take his seat at the Slytherin table, beside his brother.

An unexpected disappointment weaved through his thoughts, filling Louis with doubt and insecurity. Although it made perfect sense for Harry to sit with the Slytherins – his brother was there and the Durmstrang ship was scheduled to leave that morning, making it the last time Harry would see him for months – Louis couldn’t ignore the slight annoyance he felt that Harry had not bothered even to catch his eye. Harry sat with his back to the Gryffindor table, entertaining his enraptured audience, arm slung around his brother’s back.

The last time he had spoken to Harry, Louis recounted, was the evening before. Harry had fallen to sleep quickly, while Louis had tossed and turned, the curse etched into the side of his face and neck burning.

_With you… everything feels right and honest. Like you know me better than I can even begin to understand myself._

Louis wolfed down his breakfast and avoided the persistent gaze of his friends.

*

The heavy darkness in the corridor hung over Louis. The flickering candles cast shadows across the portraits and obscured his vision. He counted the steps to avoid the trick panel of wood at the top of the staircase that left anyone unfortunate enough to step on it covered in wood varnish. He knew he would sleep at Liam’s dormitory; that he was too proud, too dignified to go back to his shared dormitory after spending three hours in the Forbidden Forest, waiting for Harry. Waiting for him to arrive and with every passing minute, every crunch of leaves that raised Louis’ spirit only to have them dashed again when he realised that it was merely a passing animal, every sigh of the wind, cursing himself. Cursing himself for being foolish enough to trust Harry Styles.

Thoughts of the day plagued Louis, he could hardly focus on getting back inside the castle with how violently the insecurity he felt that day surged through him. Harry smiling at the adoring crowds, barely glancing at Louis. Harry flirting with the Slytherin girls who hadn’t left his side most of the day. Harry choking back whole bottles of Firewhiskey to the chants of the other seventh-years. The wild emptiness in Harry’s gaze, the practiced removal and the deep plunge of his dauntless spirit into a drunken stupor. 

When Louis had finally had enough of watching Harry wreck himself, he shoved past a crowd of rowdy Slytherins. The music blaring in his ears and a pungent smell wafting over from the corner of the common room where a small group of Gryffindors were passing around a pipe, Louis steeled himself.

“Harry.”

He didn’t raise his eyes from the girl in the middle of group, telling a story to uproarious laughter.

“ _Harry_.”

Louis’ tone caught the attention of the girl pressed against Harry’s side and she poked his shoulder. In an instant, Harry glanced up and finally, for the first time that day, his eyes locked with Louis’. With startling haste, Louis’ insides shrivelled at the sight. Harry’s eyes were bloodshot, barely open; the spark Louis was used to seeing was reduced to a desperate, smoking flicker. His skin was pale and clammy; his movements languid; his lips parted.

“Louis,” he said, voice gravelly.

The air of detachment in Harry’s voice cut through Louis like a knife. He braced himself and spoke in a firm and urgent voice.

“Meet me at our spot tomorrow. Before sunrise.”

Whether the words registered with Harry or not, Louis did not have time to guess. He turned on his heel with tenacious determination, tears welling in his eyes, an ache sweeping through his body and seizing his chest, and made his way back to their dormitory.

~*~ Two and a half years later ~*~

“Two witnesses – both witches, shopping together, memories retained. We secured a warrant seconds before you arrived, although I don’t expect any arrests unless one of the illegal potioneers is stupid enough to stay behind and protect the warehouse. Standard search, gather evidence – you know the drill by now, Tomlinson.”

“What about casualties?” Louis muttered, flicking his wand to arrange the stack of files on his desk to fly across the office to the filing department.

“As far as we can tell, their first mistake was advertising the illegal potions in Diagon Alley. It’s doubtful they got far enough to actually selling any.”

Louis sighed as he pulled on his Junior Auror robes and fastened his badge.

Guillaume Bernard, the Senior Officer of the Auror Office – in charge of mission assignment and tracking – and Louis’ best friend, crossed his arms and sank back in his chair, grinning. “Don’t tell me you’re actually disappointed.”

Louis fought a smile. “Standard mission, Bernard. Nothing thrilling about it, is there?”

“You should know by this stage that being an Auror isn’t as glamorous as bright-eyed seventeen-year olds are deluded into thinking. And what about that post in Bali two months ago? From the wounds you sustained there and the newspaper coverage that raid got, I’d say it was pretty thrilling.”

“Bali was an exception,” Louis said.

Guillaume threw his hand into his hair and cast his gaze to the ceiling – a telling sign that he was considering something that he would probably come to regret.

Louis snatched a mission report file from the stack on Guillaume’s desk and a crisp apple from the fruit bowl and waited patiently.

Finally, Guillaume glanced at him, a pre-emptively reluctant shadow in his gaze. “What if I told you…”

“Yes?” Louis said eagerly.

Guillaume stuck his finger up at Louis. “What I was saying, is that I might be able to secure you a long-term mission, which are usually more interesting than illegal potions that promise lifelong happiness but do nothing more than turning your fingernails yellow. I can pull a few strings upstairs with the Senior Aurors – one of them owes me a favour anyway – and get you a placement. We have our monthly Department meeting this afternoon.”

Louis punched him boisterously in the shoulder and Guillaume laughed.

“I can’t make any promises, but Special Divisions indicated something curious to me yesterday and Ruby Wu-Jones who oversees that division will be in attendance at the meeting.”

“As in Ruby Wu-Jones who you’ve been flirting with for the better part of a year.”

Guillaume shot him an unimpressed look. “Do you want this mission or not?”

“You’re the best, Bernard,” Louis laughed, wandering out of the office with a spring in his step.

Two and a half years at the Auror Office had passed full of activity and excitement; trials and tribulations; friendships and heartbreak. Louis almost never took time for reflection because the fast-paced nature of his job and his unyielding work ethic usually left him too exhausted. But on cold, lonely nights or rare holidays, Louis let himself consider the trajectory of his life since graduating Hogwarts. His twenty-first birthday would be in two months and he truly was not ready to come to terms with that startling fact. But since his last year at Hogwarts, Louis had never allowed himself to be vulnerable with anyone outside his group of truest friends and family. He knew - intimately - how it felt to have his heart throttled and torn, to have his self-confidence broken, to have his judgement doubted again and again all because he trusted Harry. 

Harry, the boy who had promised him so much, had placed his faith in Louis, had poured his desires between them and with whom he had envisioned a real future. But that was years ago, as a naïve teenager. It required strength and tenacity for Louis to be able to reveal the shadow of his faith again - and this time he had placed it in his work, in helping others, in applying his talents and his privileges in the service of others. There were faults in the institution he worked for doubtless, but he needed to direct his mind to a cause in order to prevent himself crumbling from within. 

Louis knew, however, that the careful structure he had built around him was still fragile; that if someone pried or asked too many questions on a date, that if a mission ended in injury or disaster, that if he heard a whisper of the name 'Styles', the structure would smash and crumble, and Louis would be broken and exposed. Such a consequence could not happen; Louis would not let that happen.

The risk was simply too great, and the stakes too high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> [If you enjoyed this please come and say hi on tumblr and reblog my post (I would be ever so grateful if you did)!](https://toomanydreamers.tumblr.com/)  
> If you enjoyed this, please consider [buying me a coffee! ](https://ko-fi.com/toomanytears)  
>   
> Also my Spotify playlist that I listen to while writing is here and you can [follow me](https://open.spotify.com/user/mendingwall16?si=YIgtm9yoSganZhv5xb-69g) there - I follow back :)


	2. The Illusion of Disguise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy this chapter. If you know me by now, then you know that I take the concept of 'slow-burn' to new extremes. This chapter is quite plot (exposition) heavy in order to establish all the details of the Auror mission that Louis is going to undertake. Bit I promsie that chapter 3 will feature some much more interesting/heart-wrenching/entertaining/prideful/snarky H&L dynamics. Thank you to everyone who has commented and left kudos - I'm going to take some time tomorrow to reply to those comments and the hundreds I still need to reply to on TSAVV. Love always, take care - Bea x

Louis arrived back to the Auror Office in high spirits. The raid at the illegal potions warehouse near Diagon Alley had been a resounding success. In the process of investigating the documents at the warehouse, he found a stash of half-molten fake Galleons at the bottom of a cauldron. This discovery, Louis knew, had direct ties to a notorious Gringotts board member – Andrew Urquart – that the Auror Office had been trying to pin down for almost three months since he fled the country after some of his fraudulent activities were discovered.

As he made his way down the main aisle of the Auror Office, with memos fluttering overhead, various department employees and even a couple of senior Aurors stopped to congratulate Louis. Gladys Goodwin, who was leading the investigation into the fraudster, shook his hand so fervently that he thought she was going to break his wrist.

“Nice work, Tomlinson,” Guillaume said, leaning against the doorframe of his office with a slight smirk. In his hand was a manilla file with a blue tape and the word ‘Classified’ printed across the front.

Louis swiped his hand through his hair, heart tight in his chest at the thought of what the file contained.

“That’s not the long-term case you promised me, is it?”

Guillaume laughed. “Nope. Even I’m not senior enough to assign that one to you.” He flicked his wand and his office door swung shut with a sharp click. “I’m on my way up to see Robards about that now and I’m already late.”

They made their way through a passage that led directly upstairs, where the Senior Aurors were stationed.

“Fortunate I got back in time then.”

“Fortunate indeed. Although I’m sure Robards would have made an exception if he heard that you picked up a lead into Urquart.”

Louis raised his eyebrows disbelievingly. “Robards doesn’t make exceptions.”

Guillaume tilted his head to the side. “Maybe he’s getting soft. He certainly seemed keen on instituting some changes in the Department at the meeting this morning.”

Louis considered his next words carefully. Guillaume was his best friend, but he was also unlikely to share information about what happened during the meeting, especially if it was sensitive. But if Robards was considering moving people around the Auror Office, Louis thought sanguinely that he might be considered for a promotion. Especially after he had shown his capabilities as a solo Junior Auror in the field, after his partner, Mavis Montgomery, had taken maternity leave the month before.

“So what else happened at the meeting?” Louis asked. He was careful not to sound too nonchalant; all Auror Office employees were trained in psychological manipulation and Guillaume would be able to pick up on any attempt to gather information very quickly.

“If that’s your way of asking whether I asked Wu-Jones out, the answer is a resounding no,” Guillaume said as they jogged up the winding staircase.

“Tough luck, mate,” Louis said. Guillaume had struggled to pluck up the courage to ask Ruby Wu-Jones out for months. Although Louis had enjoyed teasing him about hiss crush during the first couple of weeks after Guillaume had revealed his crush over a late-night drink at a bar in Hogsmeade, after three months Louis felt slightly guilty about teasing him. The pathetic shrug Guillaume gave was enough to stop Louis before he raised his eyebrows sarcastically.

“I mean it, though,” Louis continued, deciding that a change of topic might save Guillaume from spiralling into self-doubt. They rounded the corner and made their way along the more austere upper corridor. “Did Robards mention anything important that I should know?”

Guillaume sighed as they reached the door at the end of the corridor, with a polished brass sign that read: _Gawain Robards, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement._

“You know I can’t divulge everything, Louis.” Guillaume placed his hand on the door handle and hesitated before meeting Louis’ gaze in an earnest plea. “Just try not to lose your head in front of the whole Department.”

Above Louis’ head, memos whizzed and fluttered their paper wings, creating a swirl of pastel colours. The memos raced inside after Guillaume opened the door. It was a well-known fact that Gawain Robards reserved only the most important meetings to his office. The space had been magically expanded to comfortably fit the seven people already there, talking in hushed tones. As soon as Louis stepped inside behind Guillaume, the conversations fell silent.

Robards, with his characteristic half-smirk and matted dark blonde hair, smacked his hand on the long table to indicate that everyone should take their seats unless they were foolish enough to test his patience. He gripped Louis’ hand once, muttering, “Good of you to come, Tomlinson”.

Louis thanked him and scrambled into the seat between Guillaume and a Senior Auror, Dean Thomas, who nodded at him. With muted curiosity, Louis cast his gaze around to table, surveying who exactly had been invited in the hope of gleaning any information about what the mission might involve. Ruby Wu-Jones, head of Auror Special Divisions. Three Senior Aurors in addition to Thomas: Eustace Macmillan, Lucille Fawley and Ralph Shafiq. And sitting primly to the right of Robards, Minister for Foreign Magical Affairs, Rosemary Prewett.

Louis concentrated firmly on Robards to restrain himself from rushing over to Prewett and asking for her autograph. She was a legendary Quidditch player in her youth before joining the Ministry of Magic and quickly rose in the ranks of the Department of Foreign Magical Affairs. Niall also happened to harbour a long-term crush ever since he served her while he was working part-time as a waiter at the Leaky Cauldron when he was trying to decide what career to pursue after Hogwarts. According to Niall – a dubious source at the best of times – Prewett flirted with him the whole night.

Judging from Prewett’s stern expression and the thin line of her lips, however, now was not the time to ask her if there was any truth to that particular story.

“Alright,” Robards barked, rapping his knuckles against the table and rocking back and forth ever so slightly as he spoke. “I appreciate all of you returning for this brief follow-up to this morning’s Monthly Department meeting. As you can see, we’re joined by Junior Auror Louis Tomlinson. This meeting, as I’m sure you’ve gathered, therefore pertains to the newest – and potentially a very dangerous case – case that we’re assigning Tomlinson to.”

With great difficulty, Louis nodded once at Robards although his stomach jolted with anticipation.

“Wu-Jones, would you like to share the details of this case?”

“Absolutely, Robards.” Although she only stood at five foot even, Ruby Wu-Jones was a force to be reckoned with; she had a razor-sharp wit and was one of the few people in the room that Louis knew he could trust to confide in, it was no wonder Guillaume had fallen hard for her.

“So, first thing’s first: this mission is, unfortunately, a bit of an anomaly. That’s why it was directed to my Special Ops division. Usually, I gather a small team from my Department and we carry out investigative work, then track and detain procedures. Occasionally, we bring in a couple of Aurors if heavy field work is needed, but most of the time our work happens in Britain, under my authority and direction.” She exhaled through her nose, rifling through the files on the table. “This mission, then, blows that whole formula out of the water. We’re dealing with international territory in this case – that’s why Minister Prewett has joined us – and the suspects involved are ghosts.”

Ralph Shafiq frowned. “Shouldn’t this be a job for the Department of Magical Creatures?”

Wu-Jones rubbed her temple. “Sorry, not actual ghosts. It was a figure of speech – I’m Muggle-born, you see. What I mean to say is that the criminals and financers in question are very difficult to track. They change names, appearance, financial accounts. Their organisation has tentacles embedded in spots all over the world. This, obviously makes it very difficult to determine a hierarchy within this crime structure.”

“And what sort of crime structure are we talking about here?” Louis asked.

“Take your pick,” Wu-Jones said, smiling grimly. “Money laundering, extortion, theft, tax evasion – could go on. All we know is that there is a structure in place. We’ve uncovered subtle patterns of criminal behaviours linking these crimes; we’re just stuck when it comes to identifying and locating the masterminds behind them.”

Louis could tell from Wu-Jones’s wry tone of voice and her word choice – ‘masterminds’ – that this was her favourite part of the job – the chase. This was the work of detectives in the early stages of any case. Louis envisioned a thrilling reverberation down his spine as a distant firing pistol initiated the cat-and-mouse game underfoot. It truly was the best part of being an Auror; before any obstacles and distractions, before the exhaustion and the frustration sank in, before the wastepaper basket filled with inconclusive theories.

“So you said this was an international scheme?”

“Yes,” Minister Prewett said from the opposite side of the table. She repositioned her glasses on her nose and pressed her fingertips together in a steeple. “I have been in talks with foreign ministers in Brazil, South Africa, Switzerland, Germany, India, Pakistan, Hong Kong, the United States and France. We indicated our intention to send a team of Aurors to launch an undercover investigation but, of course, bureaucracy prevailed. We have established a sufficient link between the crime scheme and British interests to warrant our involvement in the case. But we’ve been limited to one Auror, not the team I had initially envisioned.”

“After a month of international cooperation to uncover as much as we can, it has been agreed between all ten countries that the operation is divided into three – bases in Saintes, New Dehli and Washington DC.”

“And does it amount to racketeering?” Dean Thomas asked, leaning forward. “Have we established whether this organised crime structure has any political ties?”

“Inconclusive on that front,” Wu-Jones sighed. “We’re still knee deep in talks with our European counterparts. At this stage, it is clear that the heart of the international scheme resides in Saintes, France. That’s where you’ll be stationed for the mission, Tomlinson. You’ll have an office team stationed in Geneva comprised of Swiss, German and French Aurors as well as Thomas, Macmillan, Fawley and Shafiq. Your partner will be an Auror assigned by the Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France. Although,” she added, flicking through her file, “I believe he is British.”

Beside him, Guillaume turned to meet’s Louis’ gaze. There was a curious restraint in his expression, as though he was struggling not to wince. 

“Yes, indeed,” Robards said roughly, an inflection of bitterness in his voice. “I had the displeasure of meeting his father a couple of years ago. He was offered as position as an Auror here around the same time as you, Tomlinson. My superior at the time thought he showed real potential but he refused the position.” Robards rapped his knuckles against the table in immodest annoyance. 

“Ah, yes,” Wu-Jones said, producing a thick file with an elaborate ribbon and a stamp marked _Bureau des Aurors._ Her eyes flicked briefly across the page. “Styles.”

*

Louis stared at his reflection in the mirror, tracing without judgement the changes that the years had occasioned: the slight stubble on his jaw from a spot he missed while shaving that morning, the purple hues under his eyes, the rough tousle of his hair, the greenish mark along the side of his neck that had never fully healed since the Triwizard Tournament. He breathed deeply and tried to focus on the cold porcelain of the sink against his palms, the vague smell of pine from the air freshener, the tight pinch of his shoes at his ankle – anything to distract himself from the thundering thoughts of Harry that threatened to engulf him.

He couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever, but the prospect of seeing Harry again – of working with Harry – was almost too much to bear. He pressed his thumbs against his temples, pressing lightly. His eyes were tired and manic. A series of situations coursed through his thoughts at an unrelenting pace: Harry shaking his hand, pretending there was no history between them. Louis confronting Harry about his behaviour. Harry laughing at Louis for his presumption that they were ever more than co-champions. Harry drawing a façade, hiding behind his pride and shame, leaving Louis to protect himself.

A knock on the bathroom door broke Louis’ chain of thoughts.

“Tomlinson? We’re waiting for you to resume the meeting.”

“Sorry,” he called instantly. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Louis weaved his fingers through his hair, straightened his Auror robes and steeled himself. Outside the bathroom door, rocking on his heels, Guillaume stood.

“Did you know?” Louis said in a strained voice.

“No. I promise you, I didn’t know it would be him.” Guillaume’s eyes bore into Louis’. “I worked at the French Ministry for a year after I graduated before being offered a job here. Most of my friends from home work there. I managed to hear about the short-list that the Auror Office had compiled about potential Aurors to undertake this mission. I knew Styles was on that list, Louis, but I was so sure that they wouldn’t pick him.”

“Why?” Louis clenched his jaw, gaze steady.

“His French is excellent, apparently, but he’s not a native speaker. I thought that, since the operation is taking place in France, they would want someone who could blend in easily. On the contrary, two young, good-looking Brits in Saintes will most certainly attract too much attention for the kind of mission I thought this was.” Guillaume swept a hand through his hair. “I honestly didn’t think I would have to tell you because I didn’t think he would seriously be considered.”

Louis nodded, a moment of relief quelling the thundering thoughts in his mind.

They began the short stroll back to the meeting.

“So what do you think they’ll propose to avoid that kind of attention?”

Guillaume shook his head. “I’m in the dark about the logistics of the mission. Maybe Polyjuice? Those accent and language spells are tricky and unreliable so I would imagine that you will both pose as English businesspeople. Making you blend in, however, is another situation altogether.”

When they arrived back to the office, the fireplace was billowing thick smoke and a wiry woman with a neat set of plum robes was arguing loudly with Robards.

“Nadine Dupont,” Guillaume muttered. “Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in France. Not someone you want to cross.”

“Oui, Robards,” Dupont interrupted. “But I must insist zat you maintain you distance and allow my team to conduct ze operation without interference. I can assure you zat Auror Tomlinson will be taken care of in our ‘ands. We did insist zat he was ze ideal Auror for zis mission, and that position ‘as not changed.”

“I understand your position perfectly, Ms. Dupont,” Robards said through gritted teeth. “I merely wish to convey my–”

“Your what, Robards?” she asked haughtily. “Your inability to relinquish control over a mission, hm?”

Robards seethed.

“This mission is taking place on French soil. It is only natural that we oversee the operation,” she said firmly. “You will ‘ave four Senior Aurors stationed in Geneva, will you not? And an ongoing trans-national coordination team collecting data from Tomlinson and Styles? Is zat not enough, Robards?” Her sharp eyes swept the room before he could reply and landed on Louis. Dupont’s head titled with subtle ease as she surveyed him with uncomfortable inhibition. A smile rose on her expression. 

“Tomlinson, yes?” she said, striding towards him.

Louis shook her hand firmly, casting a brief glance to Robards.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Ah, but you are the very person zat I was hoping to meet,” Dupont exclaimed. “We at the Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France ‘ave a special team dedicated to underconver missions – creating new identities, believable routes for our argents to enter and gather intelligence without raising any suspicion. And we try our ‘ardest to ensure that our agents are in ze best possible position to do so.” She beamed at Louis. “So naturally when I heard zat a British Auror was a schoolboy friend of Auror Styles, I knew that I must request that you two conduct zis mission together.”

Louis’ insides froze and shrivelled. His shirt collar was suddenly achingly tight around his neck, cutting into his skin. His thoughts, previously racing, tumbled to an eerie stop. Even the billowing steam around him seemed to remain suspended, almost dissipating. It wasn’t a clarity that overcame him, but a deep confusion that left him treading nothingness, grappling with not theories whatsoever because only one question captured his thoughts: _why_?

Why would Harry mention Louis’ name as a friendly school contact? Suggest him as a colleague for the mission? Unless he thought that it would guarantee him a position as the lead Auror in this case? But even then, it was a risk. Did he truly regard Louis so little that he was willing to use him as a pawn for professional promotion? To utterly disregard Louis’ opinion on this matter, or his position?

Louis plastered a smile on his face, softening his gaze. “That makes complete sense, Minister Dupont. I look forward to working with you.”

*

The bar Niall had chosen, The Buckhurst Hill Bowtruckle, was in North London and a short walk from Louis’ apartment. This was not a fortunate coincidence; Louis had specifically told Niall that his plan for the evening involved drinking, perhaps crying, and then taking the first good-looking bloke at the bar who expressed an interest back to his place.

With dim lights, flickering candles, spacious booths and a live band, Louis was impressed with Niall’s choice. In various states of inebriation around him were Liam, Zayn, Guillaume while Niall was at the bar, placing their order. Guillaume had cast the Muffliato charm around their secluded booth to ensure that the sensitive information they discussed would not be overheard.

Despite what he had insisted to Niall, Louis had barely taken a sip of his drink as he had spent the first hour recounting what had happened at the meeting, with the occasional comment or censor from Guillaume.

“And then Dupont told me the proposition of her ‘special division’.”

“The Division Spéciale D'infiltration,” Guillaume interjected. “It’s designed to coordinate undercover missions, especially for long-term missions that require in-depth backstories, forged documents, altered memories. They also make the sudden presence of the undercover Aurors at a secret government base or crime layer more believable.”

“Exactly. And Dupont is under the impression that because Styles and I– ”

“Have a history?” Zayn supplied.

“Yes, because we have a history, she thinks we’ll be comfortable posing as a couple.”

Liam’s jaw fell slack and when he spoke his voice was hollow. “A couple?”

For the first time that night, Louis felt the tentative structure of a wall begin to rise, the desperate desire to shield his expression, to brush off Liam’s concern. But he knew that shielding his emotions with his friends never helped his situation, merely left him drowning in uncertainty and without direction.

Slowly, Louis nodded.

Liam exchanged a pointed look with Zayn that Louis did not want to decipher the meaning of.

“Here we go, lads.”

Niall arrived and slid a tray laden with deceptively frothing and bubbling alcoholic drinks onto the table.

Guillaume seemed to register Louis’ unease, as he passed him a small whiskey that vibrated and spilled onto the table unless it was placed on a coaster.

“Styles is considered the real asset for this mission because his interest in a scheme like this one is likely to go unquestioned on the basis of his family’s… status alone. So Styles can keep his identity. But two young, active Brits arriving there will arouse real suspicion unless it appears that Louis is only there as a serious partner of Styles. Romantic partner, that is,” he added hastily. 

Zayn looked inquisitively at Louis. “So you’ll be carrying out all of the real investigative work and he’ll be distracting a couple of fraudsters with his family’s wealth and blood status?”

“And his charm, no doubt,” Louis muttered, surprising even himself.

“But Louis,” Zayn continued, his tone thoughtful, “I don’t understand how you’re accepting this for what it is.”

“He’s right,” Liam said earnestly. “I know this is a mission you’ve been assigned, clearly an important one with great promotion prospects – but they _want_ you. Guillaume said it himself – Dupont asked Robards for you specifically, not some expert Senior Auror.” Liam met Louis’ wary gaze with steady, burning determination. “Styles may think he’s roped you into this mission, but he’s going to have to cater to your terms if he wants you to co-operate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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